The Fallen
by Miasen
Summary: What if it was Angel and not Peter Parker who encountered Venom? What would happen to the depressed young man? Will he ever get the life he dreams about or is he doomed for a life of pain and solitude? Slight crossover with Spiderman.


The Fallen

A/N: So, yet another Angel/Rogue story from me. Big surprise huh? But this one is different than the others, very different. It's darker, and far from fluffy. So, if it's fluffy little pink bunnies you are after this is not the story. The inspiration for this story came when watching Spiderman 3 months and months ago. The idea was pretty much: What if it wasn't Peter Parker but Warren who was affected by Venom? Hope you all enjoy it. Right now I have an estimate of about 7 chapters, but that might change.

Chapter one: The Call

It all started with a phone call. Until that phone call came Warren Worthington the Third had for months been pretty happy with his life. He lived at Xavier's mansion, and for the first time his entire life he didn't have to hide who he was. Everyone else was like him—different—and he found himself accepted as who he was for the first time in years. He was able to fly around as much as he liked, and people treated him nicely enough. Even if he hadn't gotten any close friends yet everything was better than how it had been before when he lived in the solitude of his dad's home in San Francisco.

His room at the mansion was much smaller than his old, but it was cosier, and he felt more at home here. He enjoyed the fact that he now could go to regular classes and not be home schooled and he loved the Danger Room and what that had to offer. All in all he'd had a pretty good life as soon as he'd been able to get over the fact that his father, his only family, hated his guts. That had taken a couple months, but now he'd been here at the mansion for well over a year and he seldom thought about his father anymore. If only things could have stayed that way. But no. One single phone call would change all of that.

It had been early in the morning when Warren was woken by the insistent ringing of his cell phone. Drowsy as he was he didn't bother checking who was calling before he flipped open the phone and pressed it to his ear. The voice on the other end was not someone he would have ever thought to hear calling.

"Dad?" Warren asked in disbelief and suddenly felt wide-awake. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and swallowed a yawn.

"Yes, of course it's me. How are you doing, son?"

Warren felt his throat tighten but managed to utter a, "I'm fine."

"That's good to hear. I need to talk to you."

Warren nodded, but then realised that his dad wouldn't see that. "Uhm, okay?"

"You need to come home now son, you've played with the freaks for a sufficient time now." Warren could scarce believe what he was hearing and after a moment of silence from him his father continued. "There is no life for you at that…school. You are a Worthington and you should act accordingly."

"But, dad, nothing has changed. I am the same as the last time you saw me. The wings…" Warren rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to rub away the remnants of sleep. He was not prepared for this conversation and would have preferred to have it at a less painful hour.

"We still have some of the cure left, we can use that. Or you can just use your harness again. We'll make a better one, one that's more comfortable. You know we have the money to make it as good as possible—" Warren interrupted him.

"I do not want to get rid of them and I do not want to hide them again. The wings are a part of me as much as the Worthington name is." He sighed. He had a feeling this day was ruined before it had even started.

"But, son, you turn twenty-three next month, and it's time for you to start working with the company. One day you will have to take over after me and then you have to be prepared. And obviously we can't have someone with wings fronting us. There are so many people who don't want to work with mutants."

"I've never said that I wanted to take over the business, dad. I want to live my own life, not yours!"

"You are a Worthington, it's what we do. I took over the company after my father as he took it over after his. You are my only son Warren, you are the heir."

Warren's hands clenched around the phone, threatening to crush it. "Fuck Worthington and fuck working for you! I'm not coming back there no matter what you say. I have finally found a place where I am accepted as who I am. A place where I can help people and do something good. A place where people like me for who I am, no matter if I have wings or not!"

Warren heard his father snorting disapprovingly. "You can't live in that little bubble forever and when you come out you'll see how little accepted you are. And help people? How many have you helped yet? I watch the news, son, mutants don't do any good, they just kill and maim and hurt normal people."

Warren felt tears stinging his eyes but he bit them back, he would not let his father get to him. "We do help, when we can." So, maybe he hadn't been allowed to come one any missions yet, but he knew he would sometime. If only he got better, faster, stronger.

"No matter what you say you are a Worthington and should come back here. But if you do decide to stay with your freak friends you can say goodbye to your heritage. Either you are a part of this family or you are one of _them_. I hope your new friends love you as much as your family did, because they will be all that you have."

"They do," Warren said, but he could hear the insecurity in his own voice. Did they really love him? He knew his mother had loved her before she had died, and his dad had loved him too, in his own way. He'd after all dedicated years and millions of dollars to creating a cure for his son. He had thought what he did was the best for his son, Warren believed as much. "I stay here," he continued. He knew he couldn't go back to living with his father now, to work in the family business. It wasn't his life, and it never had been.

His father didn't even say goodbye, he just hung up. For a while Warren just sat with the phone to his ear, listening to the beeping. Then it slid out of his grip and to the floor, but he barely noticed. His father's words kept playing in his mind. He had no family anymore. No one besides the X-Men. And even if he'd said to his father that they cared about him he wasn't really one hundred percent sure about that. Had he just lived in a make-believe world these last months? Did really anyone of the other mutants care about the winged mutant? Sure, they talked to him, and he attended classes with them and ate his meals with them and watched TV with them, but was he really a part of the group? He had no one he really called his friends, no one to turn to and talk to if something was wrong. Storm had said that she could come to her anytime if there was something wrong, but that was not as a friend, that was as headmistress of the Institute. Logan didn't care about anyone except Rogue, and he wouldn't admit to that either. The mutants on Warren's own age all had friends of their own. Kitty, Rogue, Peter and Bobby all seemed to hang together. Rogue and Bobby had coupled up long before Warren came here, and Kitty and Peter had soon done the same. And Warren really didn't want to be the odd one out. Most of the other kids were younger than him, so often he found himself alone. He would sit in the common room with the others, listening to conversations, but never really participating in them.

Warren sighed and fell back on the bed. Maybe he'd overrated his life here. He'd so badly wanted to find somewhere where he would be accepted, so anything had seemed great. But it had been better than back in San Francisco hadn't it? At least there were people around him. And there was Rogue. Beautiful Rogue who had taken his father's cure and was now as normal as his father had wanted him to be. But Rogue still lived at the mansion and worked as the official baby sitter. Rogue who made his life both liveable and unbearable. It hadn't taken Warren long to fall for her. Just watching her in the common room, laughing and smiling, made his heart beat faster. He had a major crush on her, and there was no denying it. But Rogue was off-limits thanks to that ice cube Bobby who'd snatched her before Warren had come here to the mansion. And Warren knew just too well that he couldn't compare to Bobby. Bobby was well liked by everyone and he and Rogue seemed to be going strong than ever. They'd even made Storm give them a joined bedroom.

Rogue was always nice to Warren, the few times they had spoken, but afterwards, when Warren was still smiling like a fool she would take Bobby's hand in hers and Warren would be left behind, as alone as he'd ever been. He was starting to fear he'd be alone forever, without family or friends or anyone who cared.

The next few weeks after the phone call were horrible. He just couldn't get the conversation with his dad off his mind and it kept playing over and over. Every time it seemed to be stinging worse than the previous time. It wasn't only the fact that his father had disowned him, but also because Warren feared it might be more than a little truth to what his father had said. No one did seem to care much about him so he spent more and more time in his room, and no one ever came to talk to him. He'd lived in an imaginary world this last year and hadn't realised it until now. Maybe he should have done as his father said. If he'd taken the cure he would be normal and could leave this place to be with other normal people. He could follow in his father's footsteps and become yet another Worthington CEO. Was it really that bad?

Warren pulled up the zipper of his black hoodie with the emblazoned red X that was a part of his training outfit and shook his head. Of course it would be that bad, years of being different wouldn't change in an instant. And besides, his dad had made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing more to do with him. And he doubted telling him he wanted to come back was possible anymore. So he'd just have to endure here for the time being, until he could think of something else to do. He had thought about leaving and joining up with what was left of the Brotherhood, but had dismissed the thought quickly. They probably wanted nothing more to do with him than the X-Men did.

Warren sighed and walked out of his room, heading for the sublevels of the mansion. He was on his way to a Danger Room session with Logan, a session he was dreading. Nothing went as it should anymore. He always seemed to screw up in the Danger Room, and he just couldn't concentrate in classes. Storm had approached him, seemingly worried, but Warren knew she only did it because it as her responsibility, not because she cared. Warren had just waved her away with some lame excuse of feeling sick, and Storm had accepted that quickly enough.

As he entered the Danger Room and glanced up at the control room where he could see Logan behind the glass he felt queasy. He'd barely slept at all this night and did not feel ready for this. And he just knew Logan was going to make this difficult for him, Logan always did. Warren suspected the older mutant found his amusement in torturing the younger ones. It certainly felt like it sometimes.

"You ready Birdy?" Logan called out over the intercom and Warren shrugged. Logan wouldn't care if he said no, so there was no point.

Suddenly the empty room shimmered all around him and an obstacle course appeared. Massive hoops high in the air, moving metal beams that he'd have to avoid and other little treats. Warren sighed and jumped into the air, flapping his wings to gain altitude.

The first few rounds were easy, just warm-up, and he flew through the hoops easily. His mind again started to wander, and he thought about his father and Rogue and his life in general. Of course Logan used the opportunity when he saw that Warren wasn't paying attention to turn up the difficulty level, and a metal beam seemed to come out of nowhere. It smacked into Warren's stomach, pressing all the air out of him. He doubled over by the sudden pain and soon plummeted to the ground. On the way he found himself hitting several of the other obstacles, each hit steering him off course so he couldn't find his control. Soon he hit the floor of the room with his shoulder first. He skidded several feet across the cool metal and finally came to a stop when he hit a wall.

He felt like he had been hit by a semi-trailer and moaned in pain as he tried to get to his feet. His shoulder ached from hitting the floor, his stomach was throbbing and he was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Not to forget that his entire body would probably be covered in bruises the next day.

He managed to crawl to his feet, and with support of the wall he managed to walk towards the exit. He could hear Logan's voice over the intercom, but he tuned it out. He was in no mood to hear anymore about his failures now. He just wanted to get back to his room and never come out of it again. He knew he wasn't too badly hurt, nothing that wouldn't heal by itself in some days. So, there was really nothing stopping him was it?

With his hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants and his eyes locked to the tips of his shoes he walked through the hallways, hoping that he wouldn't meet anyone on his way back to his room. He knew he'd snap if he did. He hated that he was just one big failure, hated that he was destined to live a horrible life in solitude without anyone caring about him.

Luckily the hallways were deserted and he got to his room without meeting anyone. He slammed the door shut and kicked off his shoes, sending them flying into the wall. He didn't as much lie down as collapse onto his bed where buried his face in the pillow. He screamed all his frustration into the soft fabric of the pillow, and it muffled the sound. Not that it matter, no one would probably care if he screamed all he could into the air either. They'd just knock on his door telling him to be quiet or something. No one cared enough to ask if there was something wrong with him.

When he had no more air in his lungs he slowly turned around so he lay on his back, his wings curled underneath him. It wasn't comfortable, but with the beating he'd just gotten no position would be comfortable anyways. There were blossoming bruises everywhere and they all ached.

Why did he have to be such a failure? Was it his fate to be a loser, to be someone people either frowned upon, hated or didn't care about? Was there no one out there who would love him or even like him just for who he was?

Warren sneered and slammed his fist into the wall, trying to get out his pent-up frustration and anger. All he accomplished was to create a crack in the plaster as well as bleeding knuckles. He really didn't care and turned over on his side, curling up in a foetal position.

As he lay there, cradling his now throbbing fist in his unhurt hand, he heard a knock on the door. He grunted a "Get away" and turned around so he faced the wall. The knocking stopped and Warren heard the door creak open. He didn't bother turning around, just grumbled again, hoping whoever it was would just leave him alone to his misery. He didn't hear the door close again however, so he turned around to see who it was. He was surprised to see Rogue standing in the middle of his room and leapt to his feet as quickly as his banged up body would allow.

Rogue opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but not a word escaped from her lips and she closed it again. Warren stroked his still unharmed hand through his hair while looking at her shoes, trying to think of something to say. He had no idea why she was here or what she wanted. In the end it as Rogue who first broke the silence.

"So, are you okay? I met Logan and he told me what happened in the Danger Room."

Warren lifted his gaze to hers. "Sure, it's no problem. I'm fine." He really wasn't fine, not in any way, but he wasn't going to admit that, not to her.

"Are you sure?" She lifted on eyebrow in a quizzical look. "You seem a little, uh-m, beat up?"

Warren glanced down at his bleeding fist and knew that there also would be blood on his face from the cut on his forehead as well as a visible bruise or two.

"Nah, I'll be fine, it's not much. I heal fast." Warren kept his glance at the floor. He was so baffled by the fact that Rogue was in his room talking to him he had no idea what to say.

Rogue didn't say anything else either, and as Warren cast a quick glance at her she shrugged. "Well, guess I'll see you later then," she said and turned around. Warren wanted to stop her, tell her about everything. Tell her about his life, his failure and his feelings for her. Everything. But he couldn't, he didn't want to lay any burden on Rogue, didn't want to trouble her with his problems.

As the door closed behind her he was left alone, staring at the door for a couple of minutes. His pulse was slowing down, and it wasn't until now he realised it had started to beat like crazy as Rogue was in the room with him.

He stumbled back to his bed, sat down on the edge of it and buried his face in his hands. He wished he didn't feel the way he did for Rogue, but there wasn't much to do about it. He knew he could never have her, that she was with Bobby, and would never be interested in him. But that didn't do anything about the fact that he loved her.

Warren lifted his hands and looked out over the room. He hadn't really realised in until now. He loved her, loved Rogue. It wasn't just a crush, it was so much more and that just made everything even worse.

With a sigh he fell back on the bed. He had the urge to scream again but stifled it. Instead he silently cursed the world for screwing with him over and over again. Of course he had to fall for the girl he couldn't have. It was only appropriate.

"Fuck all of this," he whispered to himself and pushed himself off the bed and walked towards the window. He flung it open and stepped up onto the windowsill. With a deep breath he let himself fall forward and spreading his wings. Soon he flew towards the dark sky.


End file.
